Being a Governess... It Just Works.

Jane Eyre challenges the structure of Victorian society by subverting many of its conventions through the use of Jane's job as a governess.

First off, the titular character is a governess in a very wealthy man's home. By making Jane a governess, Charlotte Bronte gives us an interesting perspective on class in Britain. Jane spends most of the novel very poor. Sure she has rich relations, but none of that wealth reaches her until chapter 30-something. As a governess, the Jane spends most of her time on a much richer man's estate. This allows Jane to comment on the lifestyle of the bourgeoisie from an outsiders perspective. It's much easier for Jane to critique the men and women partying at Thornfield because she wasn't born into a high position. She has no deep connection to the upper class and thus feels free to express her thoughts regarding them. I kind of like to pretend that Jane's some sort of crazy proto-marxist social commentator who speaks for all the poor through her interactions with the disconnected upper class. But maybe I'm reading into things a little too deeply...

Governesses are like wildcards in society due to their close proximity to powerful people. If Jane was just some seamstress in the streets of London she would never run into a man like Rochester. But in the confines of Thornfield, a servant like Jane grows close enough to her employer that he asks her to marry. This marriage is "improper" and tosses all of the Victorian era's rules about class on their head. Interactions like this give Governesses a huge amount more social mobility than anybody else really had at this time.

Where does Jane herself fit in to this whole mess? As a woman, Jane obviously had fewer freedoms than her male counterparts. But, Jane was an educated woman. This allowed her to land a job at Thornfield and have a shot at some upwards mobility. But, Jane was also poor. So who knows if she actually could have broken the cycle of poverty? BUT, Jane also had the power of the plot on her side. Bronte pulls out Huckleberry Finn levels of deus ex machina and reveals that Jane actually had a wealthy family the whole time. This (conveniently) gives Jayne an automatic new level of social standing almost equal to that of Rochester. Thus rendering the whole plot kind of pointless (in my opinion).

In conclusion, Jane Eyre uses the job of governess to portray Victorian class differences using a malleable perspective. But, does any of it really matter when Charlotte Bronte writes a happy fairy-tale ending that relegates all of the social commentary to secondary importance?        

Parallel characters

In King Lear the characters of Lear and Gloucester seem to be parallels through act 3. Both of them share many similar trials and characteristics, but they each have some unique traits. In the last 2 acts however, I feel that the two become closer to being foils for each other.

Let's start with the similarities. First, (and most obviously) Lear and  Gloucester are both old noblemen. The two characters being the same age helps establish and create similarities between them. Another similarity between the two men in this act is that both of them see a fall from grace. Lear loses all of his power to his daughters and Gloucester has title stripped by his bastard son--Edmund. This similarity is key because it feeds into the most essential parallel. Both men's falls from power are accompanied by some sort of physical or mental degradation. Gloucester loses his eyes, and Lear loses his mind.

It's here that we start to see the differences between Lear and Gloucester. For Lear, once he's gone crazy, he's out. He spends the rest of his time saying random things and prancing through fields (it's pretty weird). Gloucester on the other hand comes to term with his folly in trusting Edmund over Edgar. Lear dives headlong into flights of fancy while Gloucester sobers up to the harsh truth of betrayal. This critical difference makes the two characters into foils. While both had a similar path to their fall, the way they respond to it is hugely different.

Yay For Intertextuality!

Do you know what's cool? Paintings. You know what else is cool? Poetry. BUT, do you know what the coolest thing ever is? Poems that tie-in with paintings. Just throw in some connections to Shakespeare's King Lear and you've got the most awesome AP Lit assignment ever! Let's dive in, shall we?

Let's start with the pretty painting! This picture by renaissance master Pieter Bruegel is titled Landscape With the Fall of Icarus. This painting presents a fairly idyllic scene of ancient Greece. There's farmers farming, ships sailing, and a lovely town in the background. Among all of this however, there is an odd detail in the lower right corner. A pair of legs (belonging to Icarus) are sticking out from the sea.

But why are the legs so small and unimportant? Isn't this supposed to be a painting about the fall of Icarus?

Pieter Bruegel was a master of the style known as "world landscape". This technique takes famous historical or mythological events and put them into a larger context. The background dwarfs "the scene" in order to convey how small and unimportant the events occurring truly are. World Landscapes give viewers a sense of perspective on how little the world cares about any one person's struggles. So, while the title is Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, the painting isn't really about the guy's tragedy.

Due to the whole "great suffering going unnoticed by the world/society" thing, poets absolutely love this painting. William Carlos Williams and W. H. Auden have both given the painting treatments in verse, but they each take a slightly different angle on how the world sees suffering. William's poem Landscape With the Fall of Icarus focuses on the farmers in the foreground and their ignorance of Icarus' plight. The poem refers to Icarus hitting the water as "a splash quite unnoticed" by the farmers plowing their fields. It's not that the farmers (and the world) knowingly ignore the drowning boy so much as they never even knew that he fell. This contrasts directly with Auden's view in his poem Musee des Beaux Arts. Auden's treatment of the painting focuses on the ship sailing next to Icarus. Auden talks about how the ships willingly turn away from the tragedy and keep on sailing. This shows that Auden feels that people know of other's suffering, but choose to ignore it.

How does this all connect to King Lear? Well, the largest parallel I see is in Goneril and Regan, Lear's daughters. Both of these women know that father has grown old and isn't in the best of shape. Yet, when he simply seeks a place to live, they shun him and plot to eliminate him. These characters are obviously like Auden's interpretation of the ship that turns and sails away from suffering. This arguably makes them much more malicious than a character who is merely ignorant of Lear's suffering.

The connections between these texts give us a deeper understanding of the themes of each work. The painting gives visual to the poems and the poems give focus to the painting. All of these show readers a theme in king Lear that lies slightly below the surface of the text. It's like, magic...

The old man and the large rainstorm

Many of Shakespeare's plays contain scenes that could be considered "Iconic". Macbeth has the witch scene, Hamlet talks to skull, and Romeo proclaims sweet nothings at a balcony. Those are just from the top of my head! The play King Lear has its iconic moment in act 3 scene 2 when a deranged King Lear and his fool journey out into a storm and things start to get slightly... Cray. The king is rambling on about the most random things and the fool is all like "dude, let's get inside". This carries on until Kent enters and leads the king to hovel.

This scene has been immortalized in art as an essential part of Shakespeare's canon. But why? Why would the image of an insane old man wandering in a storm become so popular? How does it still resonate with readers after 400 years?

I feel that the answer is twofold. First, the scene presents the character of Lear at his most miserable. The whole scene starts with Lear crying out to the sky "blow winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow" (Shakespeare III, ii). Right from the beginning the audience knows that Lear is feeling agitated. Lear carries on like this for the whole scene. He cries to the skies and moans of his wicked daughters. Through all of this the audience sees lear's sanity unfold before them and the king even admits "my wits begin to turn" (Shakespeare III, ii). Through all of this the audience gets a deep look into Lear's descent to madness. And as the works of Edgar Allen Poe and H.P. Lovecraft will attest, there's something about insanity that fascinates humans. I think this theme of Lear's madness resonates with readers to this very day.

The second reason for this scene's appeal is its drama. There's just so much going on in this scene compared to others. A massive storm blows while a mad King and his wise jester deliver soliloquies and prophecies. All of this insanity makes for a fascinating and visually striking image. The old adage "a picture's worth a thousand words" applies perfectly here. While the average reader may not remember that one scene where some guys plot about something, they will certainly remember that insane part where the old guy rips his clothes off and there's lots of thunder. I feel like this drama appeals to the audience on a visceral level. It's entertainingly dramatic theater at its finest.

Blog Post #33

You know, having only read the first couple scenes of King Lear, I feel kind of bad for the guy. He's old, dying, senile, and he has to deal with a couple crazy catty daughters. Let's start off with Goneril. When Lear asks Goneril to publicly declare how much she loves him, she proclaims "Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter" (Shakespeare I. i). Now this may seem all well and good, she just loves her father a whole bunch. This whole monologue of professed love is a ruse however. Goneril couldn't care less about her father, she just wants some of the land he's giving away. So, we have a trusted daughter of nobility who is willing to lie and conspire to gain power. Sounds like a perfect recipe for some drama.

Regan is the middle child and it shows. When she is asked how much she loves her father the reply basically boils down to "Um, as much as my big sister... And then some!" This response shows that Regan struggles to live up to her older sister, Goneril. Regan's profession of love for her father is also just as hollow as Goneril's, as Kent and Cordelia would attest.

While Goneril and Regan share many character traits (Lying and scheming for starters), Cordelia stands alone. Lear's youngest daughter is also his favorite, he even proclaims "I loved her most" (Shakespeare  I. i). Cordelia is fair and honest even when asked by her father for a public declaration of love. She's not going to lie to her father just to get some land (even if it's the finest portion). Cordelia's loyalty and love for her father is a sharp contrast to her conniving sisters.

To sum things up, Goneril and Regan are an axis of evil and Cordelia is the good daughter. Methinks things are going to get messy in ancient England...